


Array

by ShunRenDan



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Oral Sex, Pining, Rough Kissing, Roughness, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 09:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17847200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShunRenDan/pseuds/ShunRenDan
Summary: She no longer wore his jacket, and he missed that, though he never would have admitted so.





	Array

Radiant Garden was older than the world he knew, more rustic.

Somehow, it felt softer, too.

Despite the hardscrabble streets and the bricks that comprised its foundation, the people weren't as steeled as he thought them to be. Leon and Cloud were still the world's foremost protectors, and he could tell that they held the edge they needed to keep the world safe, but… but the others didn't feel that way to him, and he could never tell whether or not they actually needed him.

Riku wasn't there for them, but that didn't fix their strange stares or the cold, distant way they regarded him. Those in the castle thought he was an outsider, and those outside of it thought he was an insider. Both were right, in their own way, but the thing that bothered him most was that none of them knew why they were wrong. He couldn't tell them of his journeys through the stars, barring those who already knew about them, and he didn't feel the same bond to the world that Sora might have.

Dilan and Aeleus weren't fond of him, but they respected him enough to work with him. They understood that he was only there to protect the world's newest Princess, and that he needed to be in top shape to do that. Dilan was too flashy and Aeleus too slow, but they showed great promise.

The rest of the castle guard wasn't all that impressive.

He wasn't a member of their rank, and so they regarded him like they did anyone else. There was still a guard detail outside of his room every night, just as bored as he was. It was all a formality, of course, but that didn't let them slack off any. To them, he was a stranger with lab access and a comparatively useless personal night guard.

The days since his arrival hadn't been of particular note, either. Most of his time was spent training and exploring, vanquishing the spigots of darkness that persisted outside of the city's walls.

The untamed wilds and deep valleys outside of the city weren't kind to travelers from the outer reaches, and the heartless there tended to gather in greater numbers. New scars littered Riku's chest and back, reminders of their growing tenacity, momentos of the way he deigned to spend his time. Leon and Cloud weren't exempt from cleanup duty either, forced to venture into the wilderness on the nights where he couldn't.

Mothball stars blossomed through bloody strokes in the twilight sky, spread out for miles over what remained of Hollow Bastion, and dotted the eyes of constellations Riku recognized from his time among them. He recognized some, and as his arms rested on the castle's most southerly balcony, he couldn't help but consider the breadth of his luck.

A subtle, quiet breeze swept over the city, swaying the banners of smoke that trailed from distant chimneys and danced over distant, golden windows. Flickering street lamps burned on throughout the streets far below, lined the steps that led to central plaza, and bordered dutifully the many fountains that bloomed like flowers across the stone facade of the world's foremost metropolis.

It was beautiful, but he never cared about the particulars of a "where."

Naminé spent most of her nights attending to her new duties, and he missed her on nights like the one he now surveyed. She found the stars far more interesting than he ever did, and her insights on the worlds that bordered their new home were interesting to hear. Her little clues and guessing games were lighthearted distractions from the seriousness of her day-to-day, and he knew for a fact that his comforts were a great relief for her.

That knowledge brought him a strange sort of satisfaction that he couldn't shake. Her very company was a new lightsource, and her heart was a blanket of stars that breathed deep in the sky behind him. He carried her love across his shoulders when he went into battle, let it bolster him in the quiet moments, and found he missed her terribly in the moments where she couldn't be with him.

That made the knock on his door all that more enticing.

Riku craned his neck to peer over his shoulder to catch sight of Naminé as she crept through the threshold of his bedchamber. Her fingers wound together in front of her waist as she came to a stop a step from the balcony's gate, her lips twisted up into a gentle smile that left Riku's heart to swell.

"Hey," he breathed, drinking her in.

It never ceased to amaze him, the litany of little differences in her since the day they'd met.

She was fuller now, her pale skin more tanned, her lips somehow softer than before. She was no longer so lean, and the curves of her hips no longer so subtle. Her hair framed her face to the left and spilled to the right, over her shoulder, where it rested against the strap of her white dress. She was still petite, still very small and so fragile looking that Riku sometimes worried gripping her hand too tight might shatter her into glass.

Naminé was both the girl he loved and someone new, reforged by the lives they now led. He was different too, he was sure of it, but those differences weren't quantifiable to him. From the way she looked up at him, he could tell that he'd grown yet taller, and the etched scars that were chiseled into his arms were smaller looking than he remembered. His hair was longer, knotted in the back of his head to prevent it from spilling out to all sides like it usually did.

She no longer wore his jacket, and he missed that, though he never would have admitted so.

"Good evening," she managed, quietly clearing her throat.

It was only then that he realized he'd been staring, and that his eyes had been tracing the way her legs curved into her dress.

It was hard not to stare, sometimes — hard to remind himself that the beautiful woman before him wasn't some goddess plucked from the stars. Or, more accurately, that the townspeople weren't to know that she actually was.

They also weren't supposed to know that she was his and his alone, and that she was only their princess out of obligation, but he found that sort of detail trifling in comparison to how it felt to exercise that knowledge.

"You look like you've had a long day," she continued, strolling out to join him on the balcony. She shivered in the breeze and buried herself against his side, subtly encouraging him to rest his hand on the round of her hip while they surveyed the world spread out like a blanket below. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"Nah," he answered, fingers smoothing the fabric of her dress.

Had she always been so warm?

"You've been busy," he explained. "Doing all that work for DiZ doesn't leave you with a whole lot of time."

"Ansem," she corrected. "King Ansem the Wise."

"He always was pretty full of himself."

She giggled and Riku felt his heart bubble in his chest. At once, he pried his eyes away from her face and wondered if the red spreading across his cheeks was so pronounced that she could see it. No matter how often he heard her laugh, it always felt the same; it slowed the rhythm of his heart, and he felt so much like a boy again when she laughed because of him that he wondered when Sora was going to pop out from behind a corner to bring a wooden sword down on the back of his head.

A peaceful silence fell over them for a second while she considered how to answer the implication behind his question. She didn't like being separated from him day-in, day-out any more than he enjoyed being separated from her, but that was the reality of their situation. They could no longer spend the day exploring the beaches of the Destiny Islands, padding across the sand and leaving behind footprints that would vanish in the wind a night later.

She was possessed of a new and unique obligation, one that superseded either of them. 

In return for being granted new life, she was to play the role of Ansem the Wise's daughter, and so she was the princess of a world she didn't know. Men and women of all trades and sorts looked to her for guidance, came to her for assistance, and expected her to understand their plights. She felt more like a diplomat than a ruler, and the worries of her new crown left her so busy…

"I miss the Islands," she finally decided. "But this world needs us more, I think."

They fell still together on the balcony for what felt like a while, enjoying their moment of peace. Naminé was the busy one, now, and it was a strange adjustment for him to make. The world had so many expectations of her that sometimes it felt as though there were never enough time. Now that he had his beach, he craved only the still between each crashing wave, the moments that lurked in the undertow.

His hand found hers and he traced the borders of her knuckles with the pad of his thumb, smoothing over her skin as if it might keep her there a little longer.

Lately, they hadn't gotten the time they were used to.

Their duties kept them both from sleeping in too long, from going to bed too late. From sneaking out, from enjoying late nights on the beach with or without the company of sweet, starry fruit.

Dinners in the castle weren't the same, and though he enjoyed catching glimpses of her between his patrols or her meetings with the commonry, Riku found that he enjoyed actual time with her more than he enjoyed anything else about Radiant Garden. He felt her adjust against him and her hair against his chin.

"It's okay if you feel restless," she said, breaking their silence. "Here, I mean."

Riku glanced down and caught her eyes studying him.

"It's not restlessness," he admitted, his hand falling away from hers to find the shade of her hip.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Riku thought about that. He could have told her in that moment how much she meant to him, how much he loved her, and how much he missed sharing a bed with her every night instead of once a week. How strange it was for him to recognize that feeling in himself. Two years ago, he wouldn't have been capable of finding that feeling, much less putting a name to it. His journeys through the stars with Sora and Mickey had given him the strength he needed to grow.

What she had given him was something else altogether.

He needed to be strong for Sora, for Mickey, for Kairi. He was the earth that tethered them together, the unshakable stone that never cracked. After Sora's disappearance, he was expected to maintain that facade, to hold order, to be the one stymying the ever-swelling tide of darkness that threatened to blot out the stars that shined over their heads.

With Naminé, he was allowed to be whatever he wanted. He didn't need to be particularly strong, or talkative, or dutiful for her to love him. Those things were little blessings for her, but she didn't require them, and if she desired those stoic aspects of his personality more than the others, she had never made mention of it.

So with his hand rubbing her hip, exploring the fabric of her new, more flowing dress, he figured that he didn't need to talk about what was bothering him.

Riku leaned down, his lips brushed against her forehead, and the hand on her waist rose to cup her cheek.

"Nah," he said. "Don't need to."

A crack of pink spread across Naminé's cheeks, thin, but persistent, like a comet cutting across pale sky. She was so soft sometimes that he forgot how steeled she could be in the light of day, so warm that it made him wonder how she survived the cold halls of Castle Oblivion with only a thread of hope to guide her forward. That had always been her thing, survival, and it warmed him to know that Radiant Garden was the safest place she had ever been.

He wasn't restless, not by any stretch of the word. So long as she was safe, that was all that mattered. Everything else could come second, as far as he cared. The world at the ends of his fingers would always be more important to him than the ones reflected in her eyes, or the ones that shimmered like wisps in the annals of his memory.

Riku studied her, the way her lips looked in the dark, cast only by the light of the room behind them both. She smelled of linen and fresh paper, undercut by what might've been sugar. Her hair, gold, cascaded around her shoulders and painted her with a halo that froze the heart in his chest.

For exactly three seconds, he wondered how he ever survived without her lips against his, how he lived before he could run his hands through her hair.

Then his chin tilted, lips sank, and the agony cresting in his heart subsided.

Her fingers rose, landing at the neck of his shirt, where fabric met flesh. Could she feel the heart thundering in his chest because of her? Was she aware of the way the hair on the back of his neck rose when she separated their lips, pulling back just an inch so that she could study him?

He was certain that she was going to say something, but he interjected by closing the gap once again. The moment that Naminé's arms looped around his neck escaped him, lost to the way that her lips moved against his and the way that she felt pulled against him. Her body was the moon and his the stars that backlit the sky; they were both bodies filled by craving, in need of mutual light.

Riku relished in the way she inhaled when given the chance, savored the little gasp that sprouted from between her lips when he found the lobe of her ear with his own. He kissed the spot where her jaw met her ear, once, twice, three times before he felt her shift beneath him. There was something magical in every little sound that she made that drove him onward, pushed his lips to find the exposure of her neck, to explore her.

"It wasn't restlessness," she finally decided, a harried breath interrupting between every word.

"Mm," he replied, lips buzzing against her skin. "I missed you, is all."

"I can see that," Naminé admitted.

Riku heard her swallow back what might've been apprehension, maybe a little uncertainty. Or maybe she was just trying to keep herself even; he pulled his lips away from her neck with a soft pop to test that theory.

She gasped, and Riku set upon her again, drinking of her in the only way he knew how. Peppered kisses blossomed down the crook of her neck and her heart throbbed against her ribcage. In the night air, Riku's warmth was both welcome and alarming. His hands explored the curvature of her hips, the round of her rear— 

Naminé squeaked when Riku lifted her unexpectedly. His arms snuck in below her knees and he swept her off her feet, pulling her up to his chest like a husband might a bride. Her face went red as he carried her toward the bed in the center of his room, her arms wrapped around his neck for dear life as if he might dare drop her even a second early.

When he did put her down, he set her down gingerly, and then climbed overtop her while her hair spilled out onto the pillow below her head. She brought two hands up, to his chest, but he leaned over them in order to kiss her again. Her fingers rose to his face— Riku moved them away, pinning her wrists against the pillows beneath him.

At once, the beating of her heart picked up.

The pressure of his weight bearing down on her, the hunger in his eyes, the way his lips left behind little pockets of fire that still burned against her neck like brands — her legs crossed together and she writhed, shifting beneath him as if there were somewhere else to go.

"I missed you a lot," he reaffirmed, gathering both wrists over her head with one hand. The other sank to her face, and he braced her chin between his thumb and forefinger so that she was forced to look at him. "And I don't want you to think there's been anything else wrong since we got here."

"I—"

"I know that you're busy."

He silenced her with another kiss, and then buried his lips in the crook of her neck.

"But don't get so caught up in saving the world that you forget you're mine," he breathed, desperate, hungry. "Okay, Naminé?"

Her heart cried havoc in her chest and she nodded the instant before he set upon her anew, pulling down the front of her dress, leaving behind a trail of burning kisses that led to her breast. She rose against him and he took her nipple into his mouth, forcing her back into the bedsheets from the sensation of tongue against flesh. She shivered in response and her wrists strained against his hand.

She wanted so badly to be freed, but the way it felt to have him treat her so passionately — something about it all made her feel so much more alive than before. There was no passion in her schedule, no room for love or affections, but to have Riku showering her in all three felt divine. It felt freeing, somehow, in its own way, as if her day-to-day kept her penned in a cage and something in what they were doing had promised her a key.

She spread her legs apart beneath him as that realization struck her, and Riku's hand sank between her thighs for immediate relief.

He rubbed her through the dark, slick spot that bloomed across her panties, two fingers working against the warmth and the fabric to stoke the feeling that now burgeoned inside of her. She whimpered and arched her hips upward against him, but he pulled his hand away when she did, forcing her to confront the way he was teasing her.

"Riku," she whispered, afraid to be heard by the guards that waited outside of his door.

If they heard her, if they knew...

They weren't supposed to be doing anything. Nobody outside of the castle even really knew that they were together, and people would talk if they knew, and somehow, she knew that Riku didn't care about any of that from the way his fingers returned to her the second she eased back to the bed.

Riku never cared much for words.

This fact undid her when he whispered a hushed, harried "I can't hear you" into her chest.

Naminé inhaled, her stomach twisted itself into knots at the thought of saying anything even a decibel louder.

"Please," she managed.

Riku didn't respond, and she knew it wasn't enough.

She bit down on her lip.

Silence wasn't enough for him.

"Please, stop teasing me," she groaned.

Riku obliged.

At once, he shifted, positioning himself at the junction of her thighs and pulling her panties to the side. His head vanished beneath the folds of her dress and she felt a jolt of electricity course through her when a finger brushed against her jewel. She sighed in relief and her hips jerked upward when she felt his tongue come down on top of her. He started slow, his tongue rubbing circles against her nub while two fingers braced themselves at her entrance.

One pierced her before the other and she spread her legs further in response, her fingers working themselves into Riku's hair while he worshiped at her altar. Every rake of the tongue rippled another shock through her body, and she couldn't help the way she gasped when he finally picked up speed, his tongue moving in tandem with the finger that now explored her nethers.

She knew his hands almost as well as she knew him. They were coarse and rough, knotted from years of practicing with blades that severed the dark. She could feel his knuckle as it steadily pumped in and out, working to build the frustrations that had been mounting in her over the last few weeks.

Riku was not the only one with a hunger, whether he knew it or not.

She was not ignorant of the ways he looked at her in passing, or how his eyes roamed the curvature of her hips when he thought she wasn't looking. She knew he meant nothing by it, but something about that attention — from him specifically — left her wanting.

The sight of him between her legs was not foreign to her. In the waking world, maybe, but at night, alone…

Riku pushed in with his other finger and Naminé shuddered.

She brought both hands up to her face and tried to hide the red that spread across her cheeks as the warmth spreading through her body built to a crescendo in her chest. She could feel the tension everywhere, rippling out from her being as Riku wrapped his lips around her clitoris completely, surrounding it in a vacuum of warmth and pressure that led her toward absolution. She could feel every motion, every vibration from his lips, and she relished in the attention he was now paying her.

"Riku," she exhaled, voice coarse.

Her toes and knuckles curled, just slightly, and her thighs slammed shut like bookends around his head. She lifted her hips, pressing her womanhood into his mouth as if she might somehow obtain more pleasure from the boy at her ends, and wilted when she received it. He listened intently while she whispered things he couldn't make out, her voice low, her words harried and hoarse.

Those words were lost when all of the pressure inside of her suddenly came to a peak, exploded into fragmentary heat, and dispersed through her body while a flood below gave Riku pause.

She didn't remember biting down on her knuckle, but she did feel the pain when she pulled it away from her mouth, and the ache that lingered in her skin despite the numbness everywhere else.

The aftermath of her undoing left her breathing shallow on the bed, the sheets between her thighs flooded, and her legs nearly numb. Riku's face was red when he straightened at the foot of the bed, and he looked so stoic despite himself that she couldn't help the redness that blossomed across her cheeks in turn.

"I'm sorry," she announced, as if she had anything in the world to apologize for.

"Don't be."

"You're going to have to change the sheets—"

"And I'm flattered. Don't worry about that."

Somehow, that left her feeling even more embarrassed.

Naminé stared down at him for what felt like a lifetime while the blush faded from his cheeks. Only when he was once again the tanned boy she remembered did she see the admiration waiting for her there, hidden away in the lights of his eyes like treasures far. He patted her on the knee, more awkward than he'd ever been on any battlefield, and clambered up beside her so that he sat with his back to the headboard.

Perhaps what they had just done was cathartic to him in someway, but as she studied him from her spot on the bed, hair matted and pressed to her forehead, she couldn't help but feel as though something were still off.

It wasn't that he held anything back, not per se, but that it was clear to her how much he still wanted more. Not more, physically, just — more.

What Riku desired was something she wasn't sure she could give, and it was something she wasn't sure how to give. They didn't have the same time together that either of them were used to, but that didn't mean either of them needed to be victim to their unique frustrations. She reached for his hand and rolled when he allowed that, planting little kisses on his knuckles that she hoped assuaged whatever worries were waiting for him in his own head.

She traced the outline of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt with her eyes. Riku was not as sturdily built as Terra, but the signs of his hard work had long since borne their fruit. His arms were broad and tanned, covered in scars long faded. His midsection was well defined, and as she crawled between his legs, she could feel the heat in his heart burning through his skin.

Two, brilliantly glowing eyes stared down at her from behind the curvature of his nose, and she wondered, if only for a moment, what he might have been thinking about.

It felt nice to touch him, and to be touched by him in turn, and that thought was overwhelming in comparison to everything else.

"Would you like me to…?"

"Nah," he answered, his lips brushing up against her forehead.

Naminé frowned, but she waited until she was curled up in his lap to say anything, her body pressed to his.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah."

She nuzzled up against him, resting the back of her head against the junction that separated his shoulder from his arm. He wrapped his thick arms tightly around her waist, and she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more he needed to say.

That was alright.

She could let him take his time in saying it.

"You should probably be getting back," he whispered.

At once, she understood.

"I'd rather spend time with you," she admitted. "Even if we're not doing all that much."

"Really?"

She nodded, burying herself deeper in him and closing her eyes. Despite the way he was cut, he still felt comfortable to lean on, and the scent of the beach still followed with him no matter how far he got from it. She loved that about him, even if she never mentioned it. There were a litany of little things that she loved about him, really, and the chorus of those things came together to serenade her heart in the dead hours of the day.

"It's like I said before," she whispered, voice low. "I do love you. Even if I don't always say it."

She felt him exhale sharply into her hair, and she didn't have to look up to tell that the thought of her love left him smiling.

The thought of that smile kindled her heart all the same.

"I love you too," he said, after some time.

Naminé figured that was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a sequel to "Interpolation." It's not required reading, but if you like one, you'll probably like the other. Expect a follow up to this.


End file.
